


Melora and Other Distractions

by vocal_fries



Series: Subtext Becomes Text [6]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: (sorry), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, DS9 S2E6 Melora, Gratuitous Smut, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Kink, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Really kind of a lot of semen, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 13:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15730248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vocal_fries/pseuds/vocal_fries
Summary: Julian and Garak take a break from seeing each other, but not from thinking about each other. Set over a month in the general time frame of DS9 episode "Melora."





	Melora and Other Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not actually sure how my writing is possibly becoming more obscene, but it sure seems to be ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Bear with me, or don't read? There's plot and character development in there, too, I promise.

Julian Bashir awoke wrapped around a strong, warm body. He stretched lazily, pressing his waking erection against a pair of firmly muscled thighs. He heard a throaty chuckle and felt his bedmate roll to face him. When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring into the deep black eyes of Rennan Grax.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Rennan purred, hoisting one leg over Bashir’s hip. His own erection brushed against Julian’s, sending pulses of arousal through Bashir’s body. “How’s your head?”

Bashir took stock of his physical state. “Remarkably sound for all that scotch I drank, thanks,” he smiled. “But god _damn_ does my cock need attention.”

“Oh?” Rennan grinned. In one smooth motion, he straddled Bashir. The Betazoid began a slow, teasing grind that pressed their erections together, black eyes locked on the hazel ones staring up at him. 

“Yes,” Bashir moaned. “This is a good start.” He grabbed the man’s beautiful, well-muscled ass, pulling him down harder against his own aching cock. He affected a look of pleading. “But I’m going to need _so_ much more.”

Rennan laughed at the pouting human beneath him as he reached for the lubricant he kept on his bedside table. “I think I can help you out with that,” he said, pressing slippery fingers into himself.

Bashir watched, mesmerized. He and the Betazoid chocolatier had been sleeping together for almost two weeks, but the sight of this chiseled, statuesque man readying himself to be fucked had yet to lose its magic.

When Rennan’s ass was prepared to his satisfaction, he poured more lubricant onto his hands and smoothed it over Julian’s hard, eager cock. Bashir sighed deeply at the firm touch, closing his eyes blissfully. When he opened them, he saw Rennan watching him closely as he aligned their bodies.

Bashir held the man’s gaze as his cock pushed deep into a tight, intoxicating heat. Whimpering and panting with abandon, the Betazoid slowly began to ride Bashir. As he relaxed around Julian’s thick cock, he picked up speed. Julian gripped the muscular thighs straddling his hips and watched transfixed as droplets of sweat formed on Rennan’s rippling chest and abs.

Everything about the man was athletic. He was powerfully built and maintained a hard, well-defined physique through hours spent in the holosuites and recreational facilities. He had seemingly boundless energy, and his enthusiasm for his passions — working out, crafting specialty chocolates, and having sweaty, exuberant, physically demanding sex — was truly a marvel. Julian often suspected Rennan used their trysts to sneak in extra workouts, but the staggering strength of Rennan’s pelvic floor muscles kept the human from complaining.

At the moment, Rennan’s pelvic floor was squeezing Bashir’s cock so tightly it was a wonder he was still in motion. Indeed, the Betazoid was slamming himself down on Bashir’s erection with a ferocity that made it difficult for Julian to keep hold of the man’s own well-lubricated cock.

Rennan was a sight to behold. He altered the motion of his hips to roll forward at the perigee of each downstroke, and his head fell back as he moaned, mouth open. Bashir knew Rennan was stroking a prostate-like gland against the curve of Bashir’s erection, and watching him take his pleasure was breathtaking. The younger man began teasing and twisting his own nipples, and Julian groaned as he felt Rennan grip him harder.

“Julian! I’m going to come! Fuckfuck fuuuck!” Rennan cried breathlessly, and his body clamped down so tightly with the force of his orgasm that Bashir saw phosphenes dance across his field of vision. The contraction of Rennan’s ass pushed Bashir over the edge, and he groaned as the hard body above him wrung him out.

Rennan neatly lifted his hips to let Bashir’s cock slide out before he collapsed on the bed, panting.

“Rennan, holy shit,” Bashir gasped. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.”

Rennan looked at him, grinning proudly. “I’m telling you, just do your nurlan exercises, and you’ll be able to do that, too.”

Bashir laughed, drawing the younger man to him. “Kegels it is.”

As they lay together catching their breath, Julian felt a familiar specter enter his mind. He missed Garak. He missed him all the time. He missed Garak least when he was deep inside Rennan, but he often missed him the most immediately after sex. He tried to push the thought away and remain present with the sexy, fun, sweet man whose beautiful ass had just brought him to yet another incredible orgasm. Rennan had underdeveloped psionic abilities for a Betazoid, having been raised by an adoptive Tavnian father, but he was still quite empathic. He could feel Bashir’s moods change, and Julian tried to keep his emotions at bay to avoid affecting the man.

As Bashir tried to tamp down his sadness, arms encircled him, and he felt Rennan gently kiss his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” the younger man murmured.

Julian looked at him. “Why?”

Rennan shrugged. “You’re sad. And lonely. I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Julian sighed. He felt guilty. “I enjoy spending time with you.”

Rennan smiled, looking a little sad. “I know. But there’s always something else. I’m sorry about whatever that is. I hope it works out soon.”

Bashir drew Rennan closer and held him for a moment. “Thank you. I hope so too. I need to go back to my quarters and get ready for work.”

_____________  


Elim Garak put away his upholstery supplies, straightened a few items on his end table, and stood back to survey his newly rearranged living quarters. He had moved some of his potted plants into a more pleasing configuration, reupholstered the sofa, and returned all the work projects he used to keep in his quarters to his shop. He had also recently reorganized Garak’s Clothiers to maximize storage, increase usable work space, and boost window appeal from the Promenade. Garak was very pleased with his choices, and he felt an unexpected relief at creating a clear separation between his work and his home.

Garak scrutinized his potted Romulan philodendron. _It could use some pruning,_ he thought, noting how leggy the plant had become while suffering in darkness behind an embroidery project he had left unfinished for months. He picked up the plant and his pruning shears and sat at his small dining table. Studying the pattern of new, scraggly growth, Garak methodically snipped leaves until he felt sure the plant would grow in a more graceful shape.

As he worked, Garak felt his mind wandering. He had seen Julian emerging from the holosuites with a stunning young Betazoid man recently. Both were flushed and glistening with sweat, and when they’d reached the door of Quark’s, they’d exchanged a brief but smoldering kiss. When Julian had demanded a break from seeing one another a few weeks prior, Garak had considered the possibility that although he and Julian had never been monogamous, seeing the human with new lovers might incite jealousy now that things were over. To his mild surprise, imagining Julian with the other man had so thoroughly aroused him that he’d returned to his quarters and masturbated over the mental image.

When he finished with the philodendron, Garak pruned dried fronds from his collection of Pakled ferns. He missed Julian more than he cared to admit. Most days, he kept himself busy enough that he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Sometimes, though, he felt raw in a way he hadn’t imagined himself young enough to muster. On those days, he went out of his way to avoid even the possibility of running into Bashir: eating lunch in his shop instead of the replimat or Quark’s, or taking creative routes to avoid walking past the infirmary. Garak had reconciled himself to a future without Julian Bashir. He had suffered greater losses than this and survived. He would grow accustomed to Bashir as an acquaintance, but he found himself wishing to get used to it sooner than later.

_And why can’t I stop thinking about him with that chocolatier?_

Garak rinsed and dried his pruning shears before returning them to their drawer. He surveyed his quarters. Everything was in its place. _Nothing left to do._

He ordered a Rokassa juice from the replicator and sat on the sofa. Garak sipped his drink as he picked up his PADD containing the Cardassian classic novel, _The Neverending Sacrifice_. He had begun his annual reading of it a few days prior. Settling in to read, he attempted to push Julian from his mind.

After reading the same paragraph for the fourth time, Garak set the PADD down and sighed in frustration. He swung his legs onto the sofa and lay back against the arm, staring idly at the freshly pruned philodendron on the end table. He hadn’t taken a nap in about 15 years, but Garak decided to give it a try.

With his eyes closed, he saw Julian and the handsome Betazoid even more clearly. Julian’s lithe body nestled between muscular thighs, sucking a hard cock. Julian sweating, whimpering as the chocolatier fingered him. Julian panting and coming on that handsome face. Garak could feel his ajan becoming wet and engorged. He slid one hand under the waistband of his trousers, sinking his fingers into the slick heat. _Julian._

Garak teased the delicate scales of the lips of his ajan for a long time, breathing deeply. He thought of an occasion a few months prior when Julian had licked and sucked his ajan for nearly an hour. The slow, gentle touch of the young man’s lips and tongue had relaxed Garak as much as it had turned him on. By the time he had everted, he had been in a deeply meditative state, and a pool of his natural lubricant had formed on the human’s bed.

As he touched himself, Garak suddenly remembered Julian asking him once if Cardassian males could be penetrated sexually. Julian had seemed intrigued when Garak had explained that yes, the male ajan can accommodate a prUt just like the female ajan, but the doctor hadn’t pressed the issue past remarking that being surrounded by Cardassian lubricant must feel incredible.

Garak had so often wanted Julian to fuck him, to feel that hard alien organ inside him. After Julian had brought it up, he had thought about it for weeks. But it had never seemed appropriate. _Because it never was,_ he reminded himself.

He pictured Julian bent over, spread open for the Betazoid, even as he began to imagine the feeling of Bashir’s cock sliding into his own ajan.

Garak pressed three fingers deep inside his ajan, fingertips brushing the scales at the base of his prUt. He gasped, bucking his hips. Garak glided his fingers up and down the length of his prUt, keeping it tucked away inside, stroking the sensitive base scales every time he pressed in. His hips rolled in rhythm, and although he tried to continue breathing deeply, he was soon panting.

_Fuck me, Julian. Spread me open and fuck my wet ajan._

Garak ground his fingernails into a favorite scale on his left hip as he continued to fuck himself with three fingers of his other hand. _Julian_. He pictured Julian’s eyes watering as the chocolatier roughly fucked his throat. He imagined the enticing pain he would feel between his own legs, being stretched by Bashir’s long human cock. Garak groaned with his full voice and fingered himself faster, harder, his hips keeping time.

When he felt himself tipping over the edge, Garak bracketed his fingers around his prUt and stroked hard, pulling from the base. His prUt everted as his came, spilling semen inside his trousers while he emitted a sibilance closely resembling Julian’s name.

Garak lay panting, gently teasing the still pulsing, sensitized scales of his ajan as his prUt receded. When the throbbing between his legs began to subside, Garak removed his hand from beneath his trousers and brought it to his face. He inhaled deeply, eyes closed, before sucking the mixture of lubricant and blue semen from his fingers. He moaned softly.

He awoke 40 minutes later. He stretched, stood, and walked to the lavatory to take a sonic shower. After his shower, Garak returned to the sofa, sipped his Rokassa juice, and picked up _The Neverending Sacrifice._

_____________  


Bashir stared at the ceiling of Ensign Melora Pazlar’s quarters. Melora slept beside him, face nestled into his neck, an arm and leg thrown over his body. Her cunt still felt wet against his thigh.

After a week of chasing the beautiful Elaysian, Melora had finally reciprocated Julian’s advances. She had been much colder than he expected when they first met, but once they finally connected, she had been sweeter than he ever could have imagined.

And sexier. She had given him a spine-melting zero-gravity blowjob as he floated with his face between her legs, deliriously aroused to be sucking the two prongs of the largest clitoris he’d ever seen. His refractory period this evening had been unusually brief even for him, and he had no sooner caught his breath than he had plunged his cock deep into Melora’s soft, wet cunt.

At first, thrusting had been difficult without the benefit of gravity, but the woman had shown him a few tricks. His favorite position had been to fuck her from behind, stroking the dual heads of her clitoris with lubed fingers as she writhed on his cock. When he pulled out of her after they came, drops of their combined fluids had bobbed away in the zero-grav environment.

After Melora increased gravity to 50% of what Bashir was accustomed to, they had lain in her bed together, kissing and cuddling. Within a matter of minutes, Bashir had found himself hard again.

Melora had giggled. “How do humans ever get anything accomplished?” she had asked him, eyes glittering in the dim light.

“You don’t think this is an accomplishment?” Bashir had shot back, raising his head from teasing a nipple.

Melora had giggled again, pulling one of Julian’s legs to rest between her own. “You know what I mean. My clit is still too sensitive to go again right now.” She’d paused, considering, then smiled, looking both shy and desirous. “But humans like to, uh, do it in the ass. Right?”

Julian had raised an eyebrow, interested. “We do indeed. Or some of us do, anyway.”

“It’s extremely taboo on my homeworld, but I dated a man at Starfleet Academy who introduced me to it.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Oh, yes! The deepest portion of the Elaysian clitoral gland lies between the vaginal wall and the anus. I’ve heard it compared to a sort of human g-spot? But easier to access.”

“The g-spot is just the other end of the clit, so the comparison seems apt. Why is anal sex taboo in your culture if it’s so pleasurable?” he’d asked, running his fingertips lightly over the woman’s ribs and belly in a long, looping path.

Melora had frowned in response. “They say it’s unclean, but since trying it, I don’t think that’s really the reason. It isn’t really very messy. I actually think it’s _because_ it’s so pleasurable. I love my home, but the longer I’m away, the more I realize how much ‘purity’ it demands of women.”

Julian had smiled wryly. He really liked this woman. “Too many cultures in too many places have made similar demands.”

Melora had rolled toward him so they were facing one another, each with their heads propped on a hand. “What sexual taboos are there in human culture? Or what has there been, if there aren’t many now?”

Bashir had inhaled deeply, raising his eyebrows. Letting his breath out dramatically, he’d cocked his head at her. “Where to begin? It would take a long time to list them all, but some pretty common taboos across cultures have included prejudices against homosexuality, non-monogamy, contraceptive use, and non-procreative sexual acts like oral sex, anal sex, and manual sex, and even masturbation.”

Melora had looked surprised. “Are those still considered taboo now?”

“No. I think there are still a few throwbacks who think masturbation is embarrassing, but a series of psychological studies in the 22nd century proved what a lot of people had been saying for a couple centuries: masturbation is a healthy part of sexuality. They found that individuals who masturbated regularly had more pleasurable partnered sex and felt more empowered in their sexuality. Although attitudes were already changing prior to those studies, I think they helped do away with the idea that masturbation is a last resort for those unable to have partnered sex. Even earlier, in some cases, it was even pathologized.”

Melora had considered for a moment. “I think Elaysians still feel that way. When I reached puberty and my clitoral heads started to protrude, I was terrified. When I asked my mother about them, she told me to keep them clean because I would need them when it came time to have children. She made it sound like a chore.” She’d paused to giggle. “The first time I washed them while bathing, it felt so good I got light-headed. I thought I had made some grand new discovery because I had never heard of anything like that. I started finding excuses to bathe a couple times a day, just to lie in the bathing vessel ‘cleaning’ my clitoris.”

“Sounds like _you_ probably didn’t get much done either,” Bashir had teased, pulling her close. She’d leaned in and kissed him, moaning into his mouth when he gripped her ass with one hand.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she’d said, moving his hand into position to finger her asshole. “I still get awfully motivated when I know a hot bath is waiting for me.” She’d begun kissing his neck, whimpering when he began running a feather-light fingertip up and down her cleft. When he’d pushed a lubed finger inside her ass, her cry of pleasure had made his cock jump and ended any further discussion.

Now he lay next to this beautiful, sexy, sleeping woman, his cock hard again. He didn’t understand. She had sucked him off so sweetly he might have cried. He had fucked her soft, silky cunt until they each reached their second orgasm. And then he had fucked her tight, textured ass, bringing her off twice before he came again. But still he ached for something he could not identify. His stiff cock throbbed beneath the light blanket, keeping him awake.

Finally, he slipped out of bed. He kissed Melora’s forehead, and she awoke long enough to ask him where he was going.

“I received a message that I need to start work earlier than expected,” he lied. “But I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow.” Julian smiled. “My quarters. I don’t want to wait for dessert.”

She smiled and drifted back to sleep.

When Julian arrived in his quarters, he replicated his favorite oil, stripped off his clothes, sat in his favorite chair, and began stroking his cock. Panting, he worked a finger into his ass, and heat surged in his belly.

“Oh, _fuck_. This is what I’ve been missing.” He let his head roll back as he stroked his erection and fingered himself. He stopped suddenly, an idea dawning on him.

Julian went to the replicator and typed in a series of specifications. Two items materialized: a thick dildo with a suction cup base and a stroker toy. Gathering the items and his oil, he moved to the lavatory.

Bashir attached the dildo to a tile on the small built-in bench in his shower unit. He poured a little oil over it, smearing it around with his hand. Stroking the thick silicone cock aroused him even more. He wiped the remaining lubricant on his asshole, impatient, and quickly lowered himself over the toy. It stretched him more than he expected, but as he breathed through the sensation, he reflected that the discomfort made enough sense. He hadn’t been penetrated in over three weeks, and Garak had always taken pains to prepare him thoroughly.

“Thoroughly?” he panted into the small room. “He’d make me beg as often as not.”

As Julian’s body relaxed around the dildo, he began to sink deeper and deeper onto its length. He poured a little oil into the stroker toy, then pushed his erection into it. The soft tightness of the stroker contrasted deliciously with the demanding stretch of the thick dildo. Julian began to ride the dildo, stroking rhythmically at the same time. He moaned loudly into the shower unit, his voice echoing back at him.

Unbidden, the memory of the first time he’d ridden Garak came to mind. He had felt so out of control after being taken over by Vantika. Garak had hardly known him then, but he had let Julian orchestrate a sexual encounter that helped him reconnect with his sense of agency. He’d been willing to let Julian take charge, despite Garak’s obvious preference to maintain dominance. It had allowed Julian to reconnect with himself while connecting with another person. _It was beautiful. He was beautiful._

Bashir increased his pace, scrolling through other memories of riding Garak’s cock. Seizing upon a favorite, he reveled in the memory of a role play scene they’d come up with months ago. Garak had played the role of a university dean, and Julian had been a student pleading his case to be reinstated after getting caught cheating. They’d used the holosuite to make the setting more authentic, and the effect had been incredibly arousing for Bashir, with all of his authority figure fantasies. Julian could almost smell the leather of the chair Garak had been sitting in when he’d sat on his lap, thick prUt spearing him.

“Garak,” he whispered to no one. He could all but feel cool, strong Cardassian hands gripping his hips as he rode the dildo hard. The soft, slippery stroker felt like what he imagined an ajan might feel like around his cock, and he shivered with excitement. “Garak,” he said again, this time wanting to hear the sound of that name in his own voice. “Garak,” he panted. Mixing fantasy, memory, and sensation, Bashir imagined fucking Garak’s engorged ajan, recalled the bruising strength of the older man’s hands as he pulled Julian down hard on his prUt, and listened to the familiar sound of his own voice panting, whimpering, whispering his lover’s name.

When Bashir’s fourth orgasm of the night hit him, he went rigid, cock pulsing into the stroker while his ass twitched and spasmed around the dildo. When the wave subsided, the tension drained from him. On shaky legs, Julian carried himself to his bed, called for lights out, and fell into a deep sleep.

_____________  


_Well_ that _wasn’t nearly as diverting as I’d hoped._ Garak sighed. Business was slow at Garak’s Clothiers this morning, and he had decided to test the cybersecurity of various Bajoran ministries by attempting to hack into their internal networks. The only department that had offered him a challenge was the Bajoran Freight and Shipping Authority, and it had still taken him no longer than an hour. He had no interest in manipulating Bajoran affairs, at least at the moment, but idle curiosity and excruciating boredom had gotten the better of him.

 _A disappointingly easy challenge,_ he thought sourly, triple-checking that he had covered his tracks satisfactorily.

Garak turned to survey his revamped workspace in the shop. He sighed again. He’d been avoiding a tedious lace repair, but with no customers and no amusement to be found in circumventing Bajoran cybersecurity protocols, he had few excuses to continue putting it off. He grabbed a lace needle, thread, and his magnifying eyepiece, then settled in to work. 

Several minutes later, the disquieting sensation of being watched crept over Garak. Without moving his head or setting down the lace, he scanned the room with his peripheral vision.

He froze when he recognized the figure in the doorway, clad in black and teal.

“Doctor,” he said in greeting, carefully setting down his lacework and removing the eyepiece. His spine felt cold and fragile. He stood, attempting to collect his thoughts. “What brings you by?”

Bashir looked at him, face unusually difficult to read. “It’s been a month since, um -- since I suggested we have lunch in a month.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you were counting.” Garak paused. The inside of his head felt woolen, and he couldn’t seem to clear it. “I didn’t truly imagine that you meant to keep that, uh, date.”

Julian looked like he was concentrating on controlling his face, but Garak saw him flinch nonetheless. “I wouldn’t just leave it like that.”

The ice in Garak’s spine was spreading through his viscera. He offered a twisted half-smile that looked less polite than he intended. “I see.”

Bashir took several steps forward into the shop. “Can we talk?”

“Uh, yes, of course. Did you — did you want to go to lunch?”

“Not really. Can we talk here?”

“Certainly, Doctor.” Garak walked to the wall panel and entered a set of codes to close and lock the shop doors. “Would you like to sit?” He gestured to the small waiting area he had added in his recent redesign.

Bashir crossed the room and sat on one of the chairs. “This is a nice touch,” he said, looking at the new seating. He looked at Garak. “The shop looks good.”

Slowly beginning to find his wits, Garak offered a polite Cardassian nod as he sat. “Thank you, Doctor.”

Bashir studied Garak’s face, looking wary. Garak sensed sadness under the tensely guarded face. “Am I not Julian?”

Garak returned the young man’s gaze steadily, raising a brow ridge a scant millimeter. “Do you want to be?”

The question seemed to deflate the human. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He stared at his clasped hands for a long moment before meeting Garak’s eyes again. “I didn’t want to miss you.” He narrowed his eyes. “I created all these narratives about why it doesn’t make sense to miss you. I decided that I really just wanted someone to pay attention to me. To want me. I told myself I had built our relationship into something it wasn’t in pursuit of those desires. So I’ve been seeking attention elsewhere. I’ve been pursuing people who desire me. And it’s been incredibly fulfilling in some ways.” He glanced at his hands, then back at Garak’s face. His eyes cleared, honest in their sadness. “But I still miss you.”

Garak’s heart clenched. He opened his mouth to speak, stopped. He thought for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He looked at Julian’s hands. “I’ve missed you, too.” Garak risked a glance at the young man’s face and found it etched with emotion. “Julian.”

Bashir bit his lip and clenched his hands, apparently fighting something. Garak watched quietly.

Julian’s voice sounded strangled when he spoke again. “Whatever this is, it’s important to me.” He sighed, and his voice relaxed. “I want to share books and meals with you. I want to argue for sport with you. I want to have outrageously good sex with you. And I want to keep seeing other people. But I’m not going to reject the wonderful things we share just because we don’t share everything.”

Garak’s spine and viscera began to thaw rapidly. “I‘m gratified to hear that,” he said quietly. “I didn’t — I thought this was done. But it’s important to me, too.” He had an overwhelming urge to touch the young man, but he feared he might shatter the fragile moment of relief he felt. “I’m glad you’re dating other people. What I can offer you is, ah, limited. 

“I know. I _actually_ know now, I guess.” Bashir looked at Garak’s knees for a long moment, then up at his face. Garak thought the young man looked heartbreakingly sincere. “I think I’ve realized there are limits on what _anyone_ can offer.”

They sat quietly for another moment before Bashir spoke again. “Do you need to open the shop back up?”

Garak waved a hand dismissively. “It’s been _incredibly_ slow today. I’ve cleaned everything twice and still had time to work on some, ah, pet projects. I doubt I’ll have better luck this afternoon, with no civilian transports docking until tomorrow evening.” Garak paused, then fixed a coy look on the human. “Why do you ask?”

Bashir smiled. “Would you like to go to lunch with me?”

Garak smiled back. “No.”

“Good. Let’s go to my quarters.”  
  
_____________

Bashir awoke, wrapped around a strong, cool, ridged body. He could feel bruises in the shape of Cardassian teeth forming on his neck and shoulders, hips and thighs. When he stretched lazily, blueish semen trickled from between his legs. His bedmate turned to face him, peeling away from Bashir’s belly, tacky with his own drying semen.

“My dear.”

Julian smiled. “How long was I asleep?”

“Only about half an hour.”

“Have you been watching me sleep?” Julian wrinkled his forehead in mock horror, running a hand down Garak’s side to caress his ass.

Garak smirked. “Only for a few minutes. I dozed for a while.”

Bashir raised his eyebrows, squeezing Garak’s hip ridges. “ _You_ slept? With a Starfleet officer right next to you? What kind of spy are you?”

Garak smiled wolfishly. “The kind hedging bets on his refractory period.” He pushed a hand between Julian’s legs, and the human felt a finger probing his still-slick asshole. “Shall we test my arrogance?”

Bashir rolled onto his back, hardening cock bobbing. He spread his legs to encourage Garak to finger him more deeply, looking flirtatiously at the older man. “Absolutely. How novel that for once, I don’t want to prove you wrong,” he remarked, biting back a grin. He ran a hand up Garak’s thigh, appreciating the familiar texture of the soft scales along the inner plane.

The Cardassian parted his legs, and Julian slipped his fingers into Garak’s dripping wet ajan. He caressed the hardening prUt that still remained hidden, probing more deeply than usual as he watched Garak’s face. He thought he saw a shadow of alarm cross the Cardassian’s features, but it disappeared just as quickly. “Does this feel good?”

Garak nodded, sighing. His eyes were half-closed. “Very good.”

Bashir grinned, feeling playful. He rolled into his side and began to nibble along Garak’s pectoral ridge as he pressed his fingers even deeper. Garak sighed again under the attention. Julian slowly moved on to Garak’s hip ridge, biting harder over the tougher scales as his fingers stroked the base of the older man’s prUt.

He felt a hand in his hair and looked up. “As much as I’d like to see if you’ll chew my entire exoskeleton, I’m nearly ready to fuck you again,” Garak commented drily, looking down at him in amusement.

Bashir gave an impish grin. He had missed sparring with Garak, both verbally and sexually. He loved to play the clever brat to Garak’s deft disciplinarian. “You know, it’s a sign of fondness among humans to want to ‘eat you right up.’ But I suppose I’d like to save some of you for later.”

Garak chuckled. “Humanity is utterly horrifying. If you’d be so kind as to remove your hand, I’d like to evert now.”

Julian pushed his fingers in deeply, one last time, before slowly sliding them out. Garak’s prUt followed a moment later.

Garak sighed, eyes closed. Julian took advantage of the moment. He straddled Garak, playfully pinning one arm.

The next second, Bashir was flat on his back, looking up into Garak’s bright blue eyes. His wrists were pinned above his head. He laughed out loud, and Garak grinned wickedly, inches from his face. Julian felt Garak nudge his thighs apart and press his thick prUt into Julian’s slick asshole. Hazel eyes stared into blue, and Bashir gasped as Garak stretched him roughly. He felt semen from their earlier round squelch out around Garak’s prUt. Julian whimpered at the delicious filth of it.

“Be good, Julian,” Garak purred, voice sweetly dangerous. Bashir shivered and moaned as Garak began to thrust, slow and deep.

“I don’t want to,” Bashir whined. He felt teeth on his shoulder, nipping the bruises left earlier in the afternoon. “Ow! You’re fucking cruel.”

“You have no idea,” Garak whispered against his ear before biting harder, hips increasing their pace. Julian shivered under the breathy whisper, struggling playfully against the hands pinning him to the bed.

When Garak released one of Julian’s hands to push a lock of black hair from his eyes, Bashir grinned and twisted like a cat, trying to roll Garak over. He felt a lightning quick hand on his chest push him down against the bed, and teeth nipped a sharp warning at his neck. He giggled and squirmed, but suddenly, Garak flipped him over, and Bashir found himself face down against the mattress, arms held behind him.

“Naughty, Julian,” a sibilant voice hissed next to his ear, and gooseflesh spread across his skin as he whimpered into the bedding, a fresh wave of arousal pulsing through him. He tried to wrest his arms loose, but Garak’s free hand pulled his hips up sharply and slapped his ass hard enough to leave a handprint.

Julian cried out ecstatically, feeling heat surge through his cock. _Goddamn I have missed this._

Garak pulled Julian to his knees, never releasing his arms, and pushed his prUt back inside the human. Julian screamed in pleasure as Garak began to fuck him ruthlessly, spanking his ass so viciously the young man felt his body tense with every blow. Every nerve pulsed, his untouched cock dripping precum.

“Fucking ruin me,” Julian gasped against the sheets, drunk on sensation. He tilted his hips and cried out when he felt the prUt inside him begin to pound against his prostate. Lights flashed behind his eyelids. “Destroy me with your prUt. Fuck me til I’m full of your cum. Fucking use me up.”

Garak’s thrusts became even more brutal as Julian spoke. He heard the Cardassian begin to grunt with every snap of his hips. The sound was so out of character and so deeply erotic that Bashir came undone.

“Fuck yes!” he cried joyously, “drown me with your cum.” Then he fell apart, hips bucking wildly as he ejaculated from his untouched erection.

Garak gasped raggedly, released Julian’s arms, and grasped the human’s slim hips as he followed him over the edge. Bashir felt liquid heat inside him as Garak came. The Cardassian pushed him down, prUt still firmly inside Julian. Ridged hips thrust slowly, deeply, against Bashir’s ass for several more minutes while sharp teeth nipped his upper back. Julian sighed contentedly, feeling waves of heat spread through him as Garak’s prUt gently massaged his prostate.

Finally, Garak’s hips stilled, and Julian felt the older man’s prUt retract. Garak rolled sideways, pulling Julian back against him. The embrace felt almost protective. Julian smiled to himself. _Little spoon is perfectly fine with me._

“I don’t think you’ve ever done that before,” he remarked, leaning his top shoulder back against Garak.

“No,” Garak agreed.

“Is it a regular thing? For Cardassians?”

He heard Garak chuckle quietly. “For some. It’s an old technique that stimulates and clears the glands that produce semen.”

“Hold on, so did you ejaculate more after your orgasm? I thought it felt like that, but didn’t know how that could be possible.” Dr. Julian Bashir immediately surfaced from within the filthy, masochistic wanton he so often became when he was with Garak.

“Several times, in fact. While it’s unlikely that I can ever fulfill your constant — and completely unreasonable, I might add — demand to drown you in my cum, you would likely be quite pregnant right now, if you happened to be a female of a compatible species.”

Julian gasped, turning his head to look at the older man. “Are you trying to get me with child, Garak?” he asked incredulously, failing to suppress the gale of giggles that followed.

Garak grinned. “No, my dear. You’re too much of a child yourself to rear one.” He laughed when Bashir made a face, all exaggerated offense. “But it feels _very_ good to pretend.”

Julian rolled his eyes. “You’re awfully presumptuous.” He smiled sheepishly, nestling back against Garak’s chest. “Though I have to admit it’s really goddamn hot to think about you draining yourself into me.”

Garak nipped the back of Bashir’s neck, then kissed it soothingly. “You have no idea.”

Bashir smiled and lay still, enjoying this moment of all-consuming satisfaction. Garak’s arms were still wrapped around him, holding his loose-jointed post-orgasmic body together. He could feel his own pulse in the tender tissue between his legs, and a steady trickle of blueish Cardassian semen leaked from him, absolutely disgusting and utterly perfect. Dozens of bite-sized bruises were forming constellations across his torso, a few outlying stars on his lower body. The reddened skin of his ass felt deliciously sore where Garak had spanked him. He sighed deeply, letting contentment wash over him.

“Julian?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s have lunch.”

Bashir giggled. “I’m too weak to stand up. We missed our window.”

“I suppose we could lie here and discuss _The Neverending Sacrifice._ I’ve begun my annual re-read.”

Bashir laughed, rolling away from the older man. “No!” he whined. Garak grinned antagonistically. Bashir stood up, narrowing his eyes even as his smile remained on his lips. “Shall I replicate something, or do you prefer the replimat?”

Garak grinned wickedly. “I don’t think we should go anywhere public. Do you?”

Julian felt himself hardening again as he walked to the replicator. “No, I don’t.”


End file.
